Maybe
by GreenWood Elf
Summary: She asked him for a little bit of paradise. But he gave her so much more. Uriel/Audrey fluff. A continuation of "Rebirth".
1. Part One As You Sow

**Author's Note: **Yes, I'm doing it! I'm finally getting around to writing an Audrey/Uriel fluff story. This idea came to me rather haphazardly, just as we're saying goodbye to summer in my part of the world. I suppose this fic is my way of holding onto all that green leafy goodness I'll miss so much when winter rolls around.

In addition, I've been wanting to experiment with a slightly different style of writing, so I thought this little ficlet would suit my purposes nicely. This story was written as a rather long one-shot, but then I broke it down to a series of short chapters. I know I have a tendency to be long-winded, so I thought I might try working with smaller sections of prose just for a change. ;)

Thanks a million for stopping by! I do hope you enjoy this first installment.

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Legion nor any of the characters associated with the movie.

**Maybe**

**Part One: As You Sow…**

Spring came. Audrey wasn't sure why she hadn't expected it, hadn't been able to envision the land underneath a curtain of green, the sky a mild blue and touched with porcelain clouds on the horizon, where the curved shoulders of the mountains rose. The change was subtle at first. A bud on a branch. Rivulets of melting snow. A wet, warm wind that brought with it the scent of pine and maybe, just maybe, the gossamer odor of flowers. And then, without entirely meaning to, Audrey started walking barefoot on the thawed soil and she would dip her toes into the lake and dry her feet on the grass and spend hours on the porch every night, just to watch the twilight lengthen day by day. Slowly, the darkness ebbed. Slowly, hesitantly, the world came to life again.

Audrey only realized how much she had hated the winter when it was gone. She told this to Raphael one morning, when they were in the kitchen sitting across from each other at the breakfast table.

"It's weird. I never thought I'd get tired of the snow," she said, dropping a tea bag into her mug. She had run out of tea leaves about two weeks ago. The stainless steel canisters sat tauntingly empty in the pantry. But somehow, Raphael had scavenged a couple dozen tea bags from an abandoned supermarket and brought them to Audrey. The paper box they'd been in was water stained, giving off the odor of peppermint where the tea had left muddy stains on the cardboard, but Audrey was grateful for any small comfort in a broken world.

Raphael looked at her impassively. Her shoulders were hunched as she tried to keep the tips of her wings from scraping the back of her seat. The low chair on the farther side of the table had been informally designated as _her _chair, with its chips and gouges running lengthwise in the wood where the angel had not been so careful.

"That's the luxury of human life," Raphael said, "its impermanence."

"Only someone immortal would say that," the girl rejoined. Unconsciously, she craned her neck in the direction of the window to listen to a sparrow chirping on the sill.

"We are all immortal." Raphael lowered her chin so that it touched the harsh edge of her collar.

Audrey's lips pressed together in a grimace. She had a very particular hatred of those collars, the mechanical looking devices that seemed so out of place on the otherwise fluid, lithe bodies of the angels.

"Yeah right," she mumbled, taking a sip of her tea. The liquid was near to scalding and the heat brought unwelcome tears to her eyes.

Raphael, not so careful this morning as she usually was, fluttered her wings and left another shallow dent in the back of her chair. Through the open window, the sparrow trilled a greeting. A fellow, feathered friend.

Audrey gnawed on a hard biscuit, sucking air into her mouth to cool her tongue. She wasn't a good cook to begin with and the limited supplies Raphael brought every two weeks weren't exactly conducive to making gourmet meals. Audrey frowned and reached for the pot of honey on the table. She drenched the biscuit with it until she was sure she wouldn't break her teeth.

Silence stretched over the kitchen, pressed against the walls and the floor until Audrey was sure she could feel the house straining under the weight of it. Ever the pragmatist, she knew that things between her and Raphael had yet to be mended. There remained those frayed edges, the hard questions neither of them had dared to pose since the night of the fire, since the angel had insinuated herself into Audrey's life again, just has she had entered it so heedlessly back in December.

Sucking the honey from her sticky fingers, she ignored the sourness in her stomach and the treacherous burning sensation behind her eyes that dared her to cry. They were many things she hadn't exactly sorted through yet, like the death of her parents and the enormity of the ruined world around her, the devastation that, according to Michael, stretched across continents, although wasn't as obvious in her isolated cabin.

At times, Audrey felt like someone stricken, like someone standing amidst the rubble with not the faintest idea of where to begin, where to start to pick up the pieces in this complicated mosaic that was human life.

It could have easily become overwhelming. And it could have easily destroyed her, had she not been lucky enough to have a little help.

Audrey smiled as if she were hoarding the most delicious secret. Raphael still sat across from her, keeping her company as she wont to due in the mornings before Audrey went about her chores and before Raphael flitted away to deal with her own celestial business. She couldn't admit it yet, but she found she liked being mothered in this way. And even though she wouldn't dare say it aloud, or within hearing distant of her strange little family, Audrey was grateful for the angels. Almost as grateful as _they_ were for _her_.

Gulping her tea, she finished her breakfast, leaving only a vague scattering of crumbs on the table and spread over her lap. She piled the dishes in the sink, promising she'd do them later and stood with her back to Raphael so that she could look out the window. The evergreens were bright with new pine needles, but the garden behind the house seemed drab. Old leaves, leftover from the fall and winter, lined the gravel path and stuck between the chalk-colored pebbles. The wooden planters that Audrey guessed had once held fresh herbs, judging from the quantity of rosemary and basil, thyme and sage she had found in the pantry, sat depressingly empty.

She leaned against the sink, remembering the hours she had wiled away watching their Ukrainian gardener, Alexander, during the summer when she was a child, the loving way he had cared for the plants and flowers, which her mother viewed as mere ornamentation. There had been an unstated grace to his movements as he stooped over their chaotic hydrangea bushes and climbed the small step ladder to prune their orange trees. Audrey could still see the nutty brown shade of his palms, with the dirt worked down into the creases of his skin. Sometimes, just sometimes, Alexander would let her weed around the tulip bulbs. It was tedious work, but rewarding, especially when the spring came around and the flowers would burst up from the ground in a shower of brightness, reds and yellows, a lion's mane of color lining the walkways in her old backyard

But now it seemed as though only a few bulbs were going to come up in this abandoned garden, not enough to even cover the spaces of open dirt and scraggly grass. The thought made Audrey sadder than she could explain, or care to understand. She looked down at her own hands, which were quite pale, her white skin marbled by narrow, blue veins.

"Why so quiet?" Raphael asked shrewdly from her perch by the table.

Audrey turned to glance at the angel, and in looking at her, she remembered the lilacs.

"I have an idea," the girl said. And then she had to clap her hands over her mouth, to keep back the echo of laughter.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Yes, a short chapter. But the good news is, I've already finished writing this story, so updates should be quite regular. I plan to have a new chapter posted every 5-7 days and yes, I promise that Uriel will indeed make his appearance in the following installment. ^_^

Thanks again for reading! If you have some spare time, please leave me a review. As I writer, I adore any and all feedback. Take care and be well!


	2. Part Two Shadow of the Heart

**Author's Note: **Yup, Uriel's back, as promised. Get ready for some fluff, hehe. ;)

In addition, I'd like to thank everyone who read the first chapter and my faithful reviewers, **saichickAnnaErishkigal **and **savyleec. **I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Legion nor any of the characters associated with the series.

**Part Two Shadow of the Heart**

That evening Audrey found a few squares of cheesecloth in the back of the pantry. She took them out and laid them on the kitchen table, stretching the edges of the tightly woven fabric against her hand like it was netting. Outside, she heard the murmured voices of Raphael and Gabriel, who had a habit of appearing just after twilight. They were somewhere in the front of the house now and Audrey was too shy to disturb them. She had learned not to pry, not to look beyond the veil of this world into of the next, where her vision was blurred by the shimmering silver-gold of Eden and her hearing hollowed by the sound of beating wings. Instead she stayed in the kitchen, which was warm and moist like the inside of a heart and she smoothed each piece of cheesecloth out on her lap, searching for tiny holes that she could perhaps mend with a bit of string or some glue.

The back door swung open. Audrey looked up, expecting to see Michael come tramping down the hall. The archangel visited at the most odd times, occasionally bringing bits of news from the world outside, which frightened her, even though she'd never admit it. But then there were those other times when he'd tell her about Charlie and Jeep and the baby, a group of near strangers she had come to regard as an extension of herself and her own journey, because they were all pilgrims now, weren't they?

Looking up she was surprised (and secretly thrilled) to see Uriel leaning against the door. He had such a casual elegance about him that Audrey blushed whenever he was around.

"You should be out of doors," the angel muttered, his voice bubbling with amusement and maybe, just maybe, a bit of affection.

Audrey's face burned in the glow of the candle stumps she had stuck on the table to supplement the electric lights, which flickered sporadically every evening and then usually went out altogether. She was glad, at least, that she still had some running water and enough propane to keep the stove going.

"You look pale, not enough sun," Uriel noted with a nod of his firm, dimpled chin.

Audrey was almost certain that she looked the exact _opposite_ of pale and she grinned crookedly, eager to tease him, as if she were his younger sister and liked to goad him to annoyance. But she wasn't his sister. Wasn't _quite _his sister at all.

"The crickets give me a headache," she lied, hearing their chirping as a faint drone in farther recesses of the forest.

"You could catch fireflies," Uriel said with youthful cheek.

Audrey was bold enough to reach out and slap him on the elbow. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

"No," the angel conceded. In the low, intimate light of the candles, his skin was bronzed. "Nor are you exactly old."

"Compared to what?" Audrey asked, but she already knew the answer. Uriel was very old, so old that she couldn't comprehend what it was like to live a life that never ended. But they were all immortal, weren't they? Even though she supposedly had to die first to gain eternity.

Audrey's brow creased. She hated philosophy and all the uncomfortable thoughts and questions it invariably brought to mind. In the quiet of the house, a silence interrupted only by the undulating rustle of leaves and night birds, she could hear Gabriel and Raphael talking on the front porch. There was a strange lilt to their voices. For a moment, Audrey envied them. For a moment, she was jealous.

Vick…her old boyfriend. She told herself that he was probably dead now and was embarrassed that her heart didn't ache for him.

"Are you making something?" Uriel asked. He had lifted a piece of the cheesecloth, holding it between his forefinger and thumb so that it looked like a white flag of surrender.

Audrey was tempted to snatch it from the angel, but then she remembered that she needed him.

"Hey," she said, "will you do something for me?"

Uriel raised a brow. The shadows gathered around him and hid his wings. If she squinted a little, Audrey could see him as he sometimes appeared in her dreams. _Human…_

"It's only a small favor," she added, as if to assure him…and herself. "Something I've been wanting to do for myself, well, not myself really, but for…" She trailed off, gesturing around the kitchen, wondering if he could understand her despondency, her helplessness that was so much like weakness. "You have Eden," she finally said when she noticed that Uriel appeared rather lost, "is it wrong for me to want a little bit of paradise now?"

Uriel's lips twitched as if he couldn't decide whether to smile or frown. "You shouldn't be impatient," he chided.

"I know, but…"

"But," Uriel continued for her, "desire is natural, I suppose."

And then Audrey was blushing again, her skin hot with a fever she tried to deny. "Just a little bit of Heaven?" she asked.

Uriel handed her back the cheesecloth. "Only that which I'm allowed to give you," he replied.

Outside, Raphael and Gabriel's voices rose, borne to them on the silky night air that smelled of earth, and the new-blossoming flowers.

* * *

**Author's Note: **The title of this chapter was inspired by the lyrics of Florence and the Machine's "Cosmic Love".

Thanks for reading! If you happen to have some free time, please leave me a quick review. I would be eternally grateful. The next chapter has already been written and should be posted in a week. Until then, take care and be well!


	3. Part Three Eager and Earnest

**Author's Note: **Sorry this took so long! I had this chapter completed, but my computer decided to throw a little hissy-fit this week so I was unable to access the file for quite some time. Everything is back to normal, though, so no worries. ^_^

As usual, I'd like to thank all my wonderfully supportive readers/reviewers, **savyleec, ofThornsandRedPetals09** and **saichickAnnaErishkigal**. Thank you all so much! I hope you enjoy this installment.

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Legion nor any of the characters associated with the movie.

**Part Three Eager and Earnest**

She left early the next morning, before dawn could come and properly light the eastern horizon with streaks of faded pink and threadbare blue. At first, Audrey hated herself for sneaking out of the cabin like a criminal, knowing very well that Raphael would be along in a few hours time and would find her missing. But there was a necessity in her secrecy and an urgency that flooded her lean, lithe body with excitement. She had been around Raphael long enough to know that healing took intention and effort and Audrey thought that she could do her part to soften the jagged edges of the broken world if she tried. If she tried really hard.

Fueled with such heady aspirations, she ate one of her biscuits standing outside on the porch, waiting for Uriel. She was wearing the battered boots that had seen her through most of the winter, a pair of ripped jeans and a t-shirt that she had found in a rag-pile in a closet in the hallway. Her knapsack contained only a bottle of water and those precious, carefully folded squares of cheesecloth. Audrey wanted to leave as much room as possible in her bag, because hopefully, she wouldn't be returning empty-handed.

Listening to the first of the morning birds, the ones that pierced the lingering darkness with shrill, throaty cries, she stared at the dock by the lake. The air was still and clear and she could see across the water to the far shore, where big, wet boulders jutted out from the land like a giant's shoulders. Audrey sighed and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Her eyes burned, making her feel fierce and dangerous and just a little bit desperate. She wondered if there was any sense to what she was doing. And she wondered, if in the end, it would make any difference after all…

Maybe. _Only maybe…_

Her doubt was quickly pushed aside when she noticed Uriel emerging from a bank of plum-colored clouds overhead. The angel circled the cabin once, and then landed a few feet away from the porch, pebbles skittering over the pathway as his boots plowed into the ground.

Audrey stepped down the porch stairs, waving her arm. "Hullo!"

"Good morning." Uriel's eyes narrowed and for a minute, she thought he was going to deny her, usher her back inside the cabin and convince her that her plan was foolish, childish.

Audrey blushed, cowed by his celestial authority. She did not want him to think of her as a child.

"I'm ready," she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet, a false heartiness to her voice.

Uriel frowned slightly. "I hope you know where you are going."

"Where _we're_ going," she corrected him. "And no, I thought we could just _wing _it." Her joke was stupid. Immature, really.

But Uriel offered her a smile, flashing his teeth as if he were a horse searching for a sugar cube. "Gabriel doesn't trust humans," he said, "and I must say, you have a devious air about you."

"Gabriel needs to get out more," she told the archangel. "And I'm not devious…maybe mischievous."

Uriel rolled his eyes at her rhyme, but held out his arms anyway. "I haven't done this many times," he admitted. He paused, and then added. "I hope I do not drop you."

"That makes two of us," Audrey muttered, something like fear swooping into her stomach. Blood rushed into her face as Uriel tucked one arm underneath her knees and hooked the other just below her shoulders.

"It is cold up there," he warned, noticing her thin t-shirt and bare arms.

But Audrey was nearly feverish with adrenaline…and something else, something hard to define that coiled tightly in her chest, cutting off her breath.

"I'll be all right," she assured him. "I promise I'll…"

Uriel pushed himself off the ground and her voice died as they rose, rose high into the sky, which was still scattered with a few errant stars, and the lonely face of the pale, waning half-moon.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Although I don't like to discuss my personal life, I'd like to ask for some prayers/good vibes for next week. On October 30th I'm scheduled for some major surgery to have a gastric pacemaker implanted that will (hopefully!) manage my gastroparesis, which is pretty severe. As a result, updates might be delayed as I recover, so I do apologize in advance for any delays. Thanks, guys! And thanks so much for reading! If you have some free time, please leave me a review. Feedback will certainly cheer me up when I'm in the hospital. I'll try my best to have the next installment posted before I go into surgery. ;) Until next time!


	4. Part Four Rebuke

**Author's Note: **I'm back! Sorry this update took so long. I had my surgery on November 1st (there was some delay due to Sandy, which unfortunately hit many in my area very hard) and I have been recovering ever since. Although it has taken me a little while to get back on my feet, I am eternally grateful for all your prayers and concerned PMs and well wishes that have given me great comfort and strength during this challenging time in my life.

And, of course, I want to thank all of my awesome readers and reviewers for being, well, awesome. So thank you, **saichickAnnaErishkigal, Requiem for Rain, ofThornsandPetals09 **and **Erica**. You guys are the best! I do hope you enjoy this installment.

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Legion nor any of the characters associated with the movie.

**Part Four Rebuke**

They headed for the mountains, or Uriel did at least, his broad, iron-grey wings resisting the wind and creating a rippling current of living, breathing air. Over the slight bulge of his right bicep, Audrey had a stunning view of the enormous peaks covered by rows of elegant pines and near the summit, snow. Uriel flew her close to the tops of the trees. He flew her over silver, serpentine brooks and tiny clearings that marked the forest in the most unexpected places. Once, Audrey thought she saw a bear ambling through a thicket of beech trees and she stiffened in Uriel's arms, giddy and frightened and secretly delighted by the fresh beauty around her, the promise of life thriving beyond time and even the end of the world.

The angel's powerful shoulder muscles bunched with each thrust of his wings. Uriel wasn't quite as powerfully built as Gabriel. Instead, he possessed a sort of boyish sleekness, his body tapering to a narrowed waist and long, lithe legs. In the back of her mind, Audrey almost doubted that he had ever used the sword strapped to his right hip, which seemed to her like an extra appendage, as ugly and unnecessary as that steel collar around his neck.

And if he had used his sword, well, she didn't really want to know…

When they were about a half a mile from the pitted cliff-face of the closest of the peaks, Uriel slowed his pace. He had to shout in order to be heard over the roar of the wind and Audrey pressed her head close to his neck, so that she could feel his words as a subtle vibration in the base of his throat.

"Would you like to go to the other side?" he asked her, his eyes fixed on the looming ridge of bony-white rock up ahead.

Audrey clutched at one of the straps holding his pauldrons to his shoulders. "Here is fine," she replied, a little breathless. She pointed down to a wide meadow near the foot of the mountain. From their height, she thought the grass looked scrubby, but there were dots of white, and maybe yellow, scattered amongst the green.

Uriel turned abruptly and Audrey's heart rose up into her mouth. Although she was more than a little terrified, she couldn't help but marvel at his agility and the ease with which he cut through the clouds.

Her eyes squeezed shut when they landed, though, as if some instinct had told her to brace for the impact. She grunted when they hit the ground. The thud alone shook her deep down in her bones and left her dizzied. Audrey spilled out of Uriel's arms, her legs like jelly, knees knocking together as she tried to recover her balance and stand upright in the grass. Her knapsack had fallen from her shoulder and now hung in the crook of her arm. She let it drop beside her.

"A little winded?" Uriel asked. The usual cheeky glint was back in his eyes and he had the nerve to look obscenely amused.

Audrey pressed her palm to her mouth if only to disguise the tremor in her hand. "Never felt better," she mumbled, regretting her rushed breakfast which she worried she might lose at any second.

Uriel shook his wings, the feathers ringing in a rush of wind and chilled air. Audrey rubbed her hands over her arms. She was regretting not having taken a sweater with her and yet, the promising heat of the sun gave her goosebumps in a different way. Standing in the meadow, she felt oddly inadequate with her scraggly hair and baggy jeans compared to Uriel, who was resplendent with natural radiance. It was unfair, she reasoned, that Heaven had so much beauty, when the children of men had to deal with the ugliness of mortality and age and disease all because of one sin. All because of one little bite of that forbidden apple.

Grumbling, she crouched down and began to unzip her knapsack.

"Are you going to require assistance?" Uriel asked.

Audrey wasn't certain, but she thought he sounded almost eager. "Guess you don't like getting your hands dirty," she hummed as she removed her tools from her bag and arranged them in a neat row before her.

Uriel glanced over her shoulder and sniffed. "You've done this before?" he asked with just the right amount of skepticism to be annoying.

"Not exactly," she replied. "I'm going on instinct here, so cut me a break, will ya?"

"Hmm," the angel murmured. "You tools seem rather…rudimentary."

Audrey shrugged, trying not to show how much his doubt bothered her. But it was true, of course. Aside from the squares of cheesecloth she didn't have much to work with. Although she had scoured the closets in the cabin for gardening equipment, she hadn't been able to find a single rusty trowel or rake, which meant she would have to improvise. And improvise she did. At first, Audrey thought she was being rather clever, using cutlery, a spoon and a fork, as substitutes for digging implements. But when she tried to stick the fork into the ground and met with surprising resistance, her heart sank.

"Shit," she muttered, struggling to turn up a clump of dirt.

Uriel made a soft hissing sound through his teeth behind her, as if her profanity had pained her.

"Yeah well, do you have a better idea?" she snapped.

The angel surprised her when he grabbed the end of the fork and twisted it. A few thin blades of grass stuck to the prongs and with a deft flick of his wrist, he shook them free.

"Angels are the keepers of Eden," he said in a husky undertone. "Michael himself taught Adam to farm when he was first cast out of the Garden."

Audrey looked up at him in wonder, momentarily blinded by the careless shafts of sunlight that obscured her view of him. Uriel stood over her and his shadow fell across her hunched body. A pleasant flush had risen up into his face.

"I can…err…I can help," he stammered inelegantly.

And unable to stop herself, Audrey shrieked, great peals of hearty laughter shaking her ribcage and belly. She laughed until her voice bounced off the stone face of the mountain and the wind in the wild meadow was ringing and singing with a sound that was so much better than a lone cry in the dark, the music of humanity thriving and not dying.

Audrey's eyes were wet with tears, which made it all the more difficult for her to look up at the sun and the angel who stood before it, the great curve of his left wing eclipsing some of the sunlight.

Uriel's flush had deepened. As if he were being teased…or chastised.

"Here," he said, picking up the spoon and pressing it into her palm. "We'll start with the daffodils."

* * *

It took them longer than Audrey expected. Diligent Uriel was hard-put to teach her something of patience as he carefully tilled the earth around the flowers, revealing the tender, pale roots before swaddling each plant in the cheesecloth. As they worked, harvesting the intensely yellow daffodils first, then the daisies and poesies, the angel taught her the names of the flowers, how they grew and what care they would require.

Audrey only half-listened to him, lulled by the soothing legato of his voice and the way he phrased each delicate word, with a sort of quiet lisp that sent a shiver down her spine. More than once, their fingers entwined as they shifted through the soil and Audrey was rendered dumb by a certain kind of giddiness that made her feel like a little girl again, like a child who still knew something of innocence.

But then Uriel turned somber, his young face suddenly full of the ageless wisdom Audrey tried to ignore, the expression that set him apart from and above her, the one thing that made him different…

"I'll admit, there seems to be little significance in so small a life," the angel said, speaking with a kind of awe as he handed Audrey one of the daisies, "but no life created by God should be overlooked. This is something that Adam knew and that you, Audrey, should also know. It is the saving grace of your kind, the ability to be merciful. And it is what our Father loved the most in you…until it was forgotten."

"Yeah," she replied, her mouth dry, her tongue heavy and thick. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You would do well to remember these things and keep them close in your heart." Uriel took his time dusting the palms of his hands off one his pants. "Promise me?"

She trembled a little, knowing he was watching her. "Yeah," she muttered. "Promise."

And she knew, in that sheltered, private place besides her heart, that she wouldn't forget…

The round disk of the sun burned with surprising clarity overhead and when they had worked for several hours, Audrey threw herself down on her back with a sigh of exhaustion…and exuberance. Although the soil was still hard and cold, she enjoyed the ticklish kisses of the spring grass on her skin. She plucked two of the blades and began to wind them together. From where she lay she had a pretty good view of Uriel's profile and as she watched him, unobserved, Audrey began to wonder if there wasn't a bit of sadness about the angel, if there wasn't something sorrowful about him that she had missed.

Was he lonely? Could an angel even _be _lonely?

Audrey thought of what she knew of his strange little family, of Raphael and Gabriel, who were joined in marriage and Michael, who had been able to dominate even the sacred bond between husband and wife. And Uriel, well, he was outside their circle, always had been and maybe, always would be.

She wondered if his exclusion was preordained. And then she wondered if there was anything she could possibly do to change.

_Maybe. Only maybe._

"We have to go camping together," she said, speaking to the blue sky, which was now slightly opaque with the mid-afternoon haze. Uriel was kneeling nearby, packing the last of a slender, purplish flower into her knapsack. He looked up at her.

"Pardon?"

"You know, camping." Audrey waved her hand airily. "We could sleep out under the stars, we could…" But then she stopped herself, remembering that Gabriel had once told her that he and Raphael preferred sleeping out in the open on most nights. The sentiment stung her in a strange way, as if she had suddenly found herself uttering a foreign language previously unknown to her. Speaking in tongues, like the Apostles on Pentecost.

_This is not allowed…*_

Audrey bit down on her lip. She felt as though she might have crossed some invisible line…and Uriel sensed it to.

"I think this will be enough," the angel replied.

Audrey pressed her hands to her chest, rejected.

"I think this will be enough," Uriel repeated as he zipped up her bag with dusty hands. "If we take too many flowers now, the meadow will be barren next year."

"I don't want that," Audrey muttered. Her eyes were burning from the sunlight.

Uriel stood and held out her bag. Audrey rose as well, reaching out to take it from him, but when their fingers touched, she grasped his hand for a moment, rubbing her thumb over his rough, gritty palm.

"I never thought," she began, but had to take a breath. "I never thought I'd have such a beautiful day like this…after everything," she finished lamely.

But Uriel seemed to understand. "A little bit of hope goes a long way."

"It's not even that."

"Be careful you don't ask for too much," Uriel chided.

Audrey waited until he had turned away before she whispered, softly, no louder than the mild swelling of the breeze, "Maybe…maybe I will."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for reading! The next chapter, which will be the last, should be posted shortly. To those who celebrate, Happy Thanksgiving!

_*The line "This is not allowed" was taken from the song "Uninvited" by Alanis Morissette. The song was originally written for and featured in the movie "City of Angels", which recounts the idealized, though ultimately doomed love between an angel and a mortal woman. _


	5. Part Five So Shall You Reap

**Author's Note: **Well, the last update for this story was posted before Thanksgiving, so it should only make sense that I post the final chapter after New Year's, right? Haha. Yes, that's my way of saying I'm sorry for being so abysmally late with this update. I could offer up excuses (I had the flu, my gastroparesis was acting up, Christmas is a generally crazy time of year, etc.) but that would just waste precious Audrey/Uriel fluff time. So here goes. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed/read so far! I do hope you enjoy this last installment, which does contain only a modest amount of kissing. ^_^

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Legion nor any of the characters associated with the movie.

**Part Five: …So Shall You Reap**

It was hard for Audrey to admit that she had a fear of being abandoned. She wasn't used to feeling dependent and something of her spitfire spirit relied on the delusion that she actually was better off alone. A renegade. A rebel. An exile and not a pilgrim who had left Paradise not because God told her to, but because she wanted to.

That was a lie, of course, along with the ideal of freedom she had mistakenly conjured from her own teenaged arrogance. Audrey realized all it as soon as Uriel scooped her up into his arms again to fly her back to the cabin. She realized it, with a sinking, sad heart that made her cling to the angel a little more desperately than she had before.

In the amber colored sunlight of late afternoon, Uriel alighted in the front yard of the cabin. Audrey quickly jumped out of his grasp, her knapsack banging against her legs like an eager schoolgirl.

"So," she muttered, trying to find the right words to thank him.

Uriel flicked his wings. "This is as far as I go," he said with surprising firmness.

She looked up at him quickly, her breath catching in her throat. Did that mean? Could that possibly mean?

"I don't understand," Audrey began, but was silenced when the angel leaned forward and with little fuss or ceremony, touched his lips to her cheeks. As a blessing, almost. As a gift of grace…maybe.

"Good luck," Uriel told her before lifting back up into the sky.

"Wait!" Audrey called after him, but he was gone, a figment swallowed by the fickle clouds, a mirage revealed as insubstantial by the strong sun.

Without meaning too, she let her knapsack drop from her arm and hit the ground.

_I don't want to be here_, she told herself. _I don't really want to be here…alone.  
_

* * *

It was dusk by the time Audrey finished her work. She was standing on the back steps of the cabin, overlooking her new garden that had seemingly sprung out of the middle of the wilderness, a small, modest Eden of her own. It had been a painstaking process, unpacking all the flowers, turning the deadened soil in the planters, transferring each plant to its new home and then lugging buckets of water from the kitchen sink to soak the roots.

Audrey was tired and dirty and feeling just a bit lonely. The crisp, cool descent of twilight had given the world a bruised look, shedding gauzy violets and soothing blues over the forest and the lake and even the distant mountains. Squatting on the step, Audrey wished that Uriel had offered to stay with her, although she knew already not to ask for more, even though her heart said otherwise. It made her sad to look out over the garden now and have no one to share it with. For a moment, she thought she might even cry.

But then her spirits were stirred and lifted by the tell-tale swoop of wings. She had lived amongst the angels long enough to know when one was approaching and she straightened up to a stand, the backs of her knees itchy with sweat and grim.

"Back here!" she shouted, not really caring who it might be, although she hoped it was Uriel, hoped he had come back to admire her little Eden and tell her that even this tiny effort with worth it, that she had done her small part to heal the broken world.

But Uriel had already warned her. He would not be coming back that day and Audrey knew his absence was an admonishment, a warning for humans who built towers of Babel and tried to reach the sky when they had no wings. And there was a reason for it, of course. Audrey knew there was a reason for everything, even though almost nothing made sense to her.

Turning on the step, she saw Raphael edging her way around the cabin. The angel was wearing a hard frown that did not sit well with her gentle countenance and she seemed to be playacting the part of righteous anger even while her eyes widened at the sight of the garden.

"I was worried," she huffed, drawing closer to Audrey. "You left without telling me! And Uriel, he could have at least informed me or one of the others."

Audrey's stomach twisted in worry. "Is he in trouble?" she asked breathlessly.

Raphael's lips twitched. She was having a hard time keeping her frown in place. "No," she replied, "but that doesn't mean I can be placated so easily. You must never do such a thing again, Audrey."

And for the first time, Audrey was grateful for her motherly concern, which eased the aches from her heart and made her feel, well, loved.

"Would it help if I said I was sorry?" she asked, wrapping Raphael in a warm hug that surprised them both.

The angel stiffened for only a fraction of a second, then relaxed into the embrace. "Yes," she said, her arms around Audrey's shoulders. She paused, and then added. "Would it ease your guilt if I told you that the garden was indeed lovely?"

"Sure," Audrey murmured. "But Uriel, he-"

"You must promise me one more thing," Raphael interrupted her.

Audrey felt her arms slacken. Somehow, she knew what was coming.

"Be careful," Raphael said and that was all.

Audrey had to wait until the angel released her and strolled away to inspect the garden up close.

"Maybe," the girl said, crossing her fingers behind her back. "Only maybe."

* * *

**Author's Note: **There you have it. The "Rebirth" sequel that started out as a really long one-shot but ended up as a series of ambiguous Audrey/Uriel fluff drabbles. I do hope this satisfied some of your craving for an Audrey/angel pairing.

Thanks so much for reading! And a belated Merry Christmas/Happy New Year's to those who celebrate! By the way, is it so wrong for me to think of Legion as my go-to angel Christmas movie? I know, I know, the angels weren't quite as friendly as Clarence from "It's a Wonderful Life", but they were a heck of lot better looking, haha. Until next time, take care and be well!


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